


The Board

by Jayjay17175



Category: Scomiche - Fandom
Genre: Car Accidents, Closure, M/M, Ouija, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 07:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11352504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayjay17175/pseuds/Jayjay17175
Summary: "It’s been two years since the accident. Two years that Mitch had been living on his own, just he and Wyatt. Scott’s room had been emptied...."





	The Board

The Board

It’s been two years since the accident. Two years that Mitch had been living on his own, just he and Wyatt. Scott’s room had been emptied by his parents two years ago, and now it was completely bare, Mitch never had the heart to put anything in it. It was his birthday today, September 17th, the anniversary being two weeks ago. The car accident had taken him instantly, not making him suffer any pain, not his fault either. 

Mitch almost skipped the funeral, not even being able to get himself out of bed, until about ten people came over to drag him out of it. He had written a eulogy, went up prepared to deliver it even, until he looked at the paper and sat back down at his pew not saying a word. There were six pallbearers: Mitch, Rick, Avi, Kevin, and two cousins. Mitch and Rick held the two in the front, and Mitch had to be guided through the church, his eyes to blurry to walk on his own. He was asked if he could do it, and he knew he couldn’t, but he knew that Scott would’ve done it for him and he wouldn’t betray his friend that way. 

Mitch doesn’t know what compelled him to go to Target and buy a Ouija board today, but he did. He knew they were bullshit, he knew it wouldn’t work and yet here he was. Here he was sitting on the floor, all the lights out, Scott’s favorite scented candles lit, seconds away from tears. He was alone, and he preferred it that way, he knew that trying this made him look like a complete idiot. If he knew that then why was he peeling back the clear plastic wrapping? Mitch didn’t know. If he knew it wouldn’t work why was he taking this stupid board out of the box? Mitch didn’t know that either. Maybe it was the fact of how much he missed him. Mitch had truly felt like he lost a piece of himself when Scott died. They were soulmates, even if they never actually admitted they were in love. 

Mitch had seen all of the videos of people getting possessed, and coming in contact the with demon of the board, but Mitch felt safe right now. He was eerily calm, his heart wasn’t racing, his hands were as still as they always were, he felt he was invincible at this time.

Mitch took a deep breath and placed his hands on the planchette. He was thinking back on the Charles video, and how scared he was to contact a potential demon in a hotel. He giggled at the thought of him doing this alone right now, and how much he didn’t care about demons coming into his home. He chanted the prayer the instruction booklet had told him to say, and he began his session. 

“Are there any spirits here?” 

Mitch asked, and at first the planchette was completely still, and then he felt a weak pull. His hands were guided to the top of the board, the plastic circle hovering over ‘yes’. Mitch got the slightest bit of goosebumps. 

“How old are you?” 

‘2...7.’

Mitch’s blood ran a bit cold. He didn’t want to believe it, his muscles were obviously making these subconscious movements right? He took another deep breath, speaking again. 

“Do you wish to hurt me?” 

‘N….e….v….e….r.’

Mitch didn’t understand why the spirit didn’t just go to the ‘no’ on the top right hand corner. 

“How did you pass?” Mitch asked, another set of goosebumps dispersing across his body. 

‘C….a….r.’

Tears welled in his eyes, but he refused to let them spill over. Not until he asked the question. 

“What’s your name?” 

‘S….c….o….t….t.” 

Ok. This could literally be any twenty seven year old Scott who died in a car accident. Mitch was shaking now, his heart pounding. The dull sound of blood rushing through his ears was now deafening. 

“Scott what?” 

‘H.’

Mitch had tears streaming down his face in buckets. He knew he couldn’t release his hands from the planchette, letting his tears drip onto the board. 

“Can..can I look through the planchette?” Mitch asked, his voice hoarse, shaking, and cracking slightly. 

The piece moved quickly to ‘yes’ and Mitch took a deep breath. He picked up the piece, his eyes closed while doing so. When he opened them the piece was in his shaking hands, sitting in his lap. He slowly put the piece up to his right eye, looking through the plastic circle in the center. 

Sitting in front of him from across the board was Scott. He was wearing the clothes that Mitch remembered him in, the day he died. Looking at Scott the first thing Mitch noticed was that he didn’t have any of the injuries that Mitch remembered seeing when he went to go identify Scott at the hospital. Mitch was still crying, the tears soaking the planchette.  
“Scott..,” Mitch whispered. 

Scott’s spirit nodded, showing Mitch the smile he hadn’t seen in such a long time. It made Mitch smile, breaking down a barrier he hadn’t realized he put up when doing this. 

“Happy birthday babe,” Mitch said, not knowing what else to say. 

“Thank you,” Scott mouthed. 

It hadn’t occurred to Mitch that Scott couldn’t speak. Mitch was thrilled with the fact that he could read Scott and his lips in two seconds. Mitch smiled at him, holding out his hand and Scott reached out too. Their fingers touched and while Mitch couldn’t feel his skin, he felt cold where Scott was touching. 

Scott got up and went to the back of the house, Mitch nearly pulling something in his leg so he could follow him. Scott had stopped in front of his old door, and Mitch felt sweat brew a little at his hairline. Scott looked at him and then went through the door, literally through. Mitch opened it for himself, following Scott inside. The room was as empty as the day they moved in, the only things in the room are tissues cluttering the floor on the days that Mitch will sometimes come in here and mourn. Scott looked at him, and Mitch though he would be upset, but he wasn’t. 

“You need to do something with this room,” Scott mouthed, looking at the empty space. Scott suddenly looked at Mitch, and Mitch noticed he was that much more transparent. 

“I can’t stay much longer, what do you want to know?” Scott mouthed again. 

Mitch began to cry again but he knew he had to get this out there. He knew he couldn’t sit here and cry while Scott disappeared from view again.

“Were you in any pain?” 

“Not at all, it took me a few hours to figure out I was dead,” he mouthed. 

Mitch could breath a sigh of relief at that, he was so glad. 

“How long have you been following me if you have been?” 

Scott held up two fingers. Mitch always felt like Scott was there, sometimes talking to him when he was in a room by himself. He was glad to know he was right. 

“Thank you for talking to me,” Scott mouthed to him. 

“Thank you for listening to me,” Mitch said, another few tears rolling down his face.  
Mitch saw Scott disappearing just a little more, and he knew his time was almost up, not that Scott would leave him anyways. 

“I love you so much,” Mitch said, crying for a mixture of happy and sad reasons. 

“I love you too Mitchy,” Scott mouthed. 

Scott then glided over to Mitch and wrapped him in a hug. They weren’t warm like he remembered. In fact, they were cold, but it was comforting to know that Scott was hugging him. Scott was pressed up close to him, the whole front side of his body cold with Scott’s spirit. Mitch didn’t put his hands on Scott because he knew they would go right through, he just sat there in Scott’s embrace, crying. Scott leaned out of his touch facing Mitch again. Scott put his cold hands on Mitch’s cheeks and Scott pressed his lips to his. Though they never dated they always knew what was there. Mitch kissed back, and he knew if another living being were to walk in he would look ridiculous. He was kissing air, holding a planchette up to his eye. Mitch put the planchette down to live in the moment, placing his hands on what he knew to be Scott’s cheeks from the many times he’s touched him before. 

Then in his head he heard it. He heard the voice that he hadn’t head in two years. The voice that whispered at him to scare him, or to comfort him at night when he had bad dreams. Scott’s last words were in Mitch’s head: I’ll always protect you. And with that the cold front enveloping his body was gone and he fell to his knees, not even bothering to look through the planchette. 

Instead he took out his phone and dialed a number, putting the phone up to his ear. The phone rang a few times before they picked up and a compassionate, pitiful ‘hey’ could be heard on the other line, they knew what day it was too. 

“Hey Kirstie, can you help me decorate this room tomorrow?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I got inspiration to write this after watching Ouija board videos on youtube all day. I'm really proud of this so please leave me a comment telling me what you think of it! Also let me know if you have any ideas for something you'd like me to write and let me know! Thanks again! Happy reading <3
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @1_Pentaholic


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